


Something Worth Cherishing

by CreativWit, Rose_SK



Series: Wit and Haven's Eskel Fluff Dump [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dessert & Sweets, Eskel Needs a Hug (The Witcher), Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, Gifts, Good Sibling Eskel (The Witcher), Good Sibling Geralt, Good Sibling Lambert (The Witcher), Hugs, Massage, Meals in Bed, Papa Vesemir, Parent Vesemir (The Witcher), Parental Vesemir (The Witcher), Platonic Cuddling, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Lambert (The Witcher), Soft Vesemir (The Witcher), Some angst, Uncle Eskel (The Witcher), Vesemir is So Done (The Witcher), Young Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, but not a lot, drunk Eskel, lil bleater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativWit/pseuds/CreativWit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_SK/pseuds/Rose_SK
Summary: Some days, Eskel needs to be reminded how much people care about him. His family has no problem doing that.A collection of very short fluff snapshots dedicated to Eskel getting the love and affection he deserves.(Tags to be added as chapters are posted.)
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher)
Series: Wit and Haven's Eskel Fluff Dump [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189433
Comments: 35
Kudos: 56





	1. Early Morning Hugs - Geralt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rose_SK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_SK/gifts).



> Hello! So this is gonna be a collection of random, tiny fluff drabbles involving Eskel being _loved._ If you guys wanna blame someone for this, blame Haven. I was not a fluff writer until she popped in and said, "But, Wit...fluff." And now this is here. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy. And as a matter of fact...
> 
>  **Please leave suggestions in the comments!** I would love to know what you guys want to see! I'm honestly on an Eskel fluff and whump train so if there's a prompt you want me to write, please don't be afraid to drop it in! Without further ado, please enjoy!

Mornings in Kaer Morhen are always quiet. Eskel wakes up first, rising with the dawn and heading out to start the day. He makes his way to the kitchen like every other morning, intent on preparing breakfast that will have just finished by the time the rest of the keep shuffles into the dining hall, bleary-eyed and dead on their feet. It's very rare for anyone to be awake while Eskel's still at the stove, but today appears to have different plans.

Footsteps shuffle into the kitchen behind him. He finds it odd that someone woke this early, but he doesn't comment on it, nor does he turn around. The person will pass by him without a word. On days like these, they always do. It stings each time it happens, but Eskel understands. Not everyone is a morning bird like he is. They just need time to wake up.

Eskel attempts to give them privacy and peace, keeping his mouth shut and attention focused on stirring the porridge in front of him. The footsteps continue, but instead of passing by, they seem to grow closer. Before he can turn around and check if they're alright, two strong arms wrap around his waist, a head resting between his shoulder blades. For a moment, Eskel tenses, surprised at the sudden gesture, but then a familiar, groggy voice mumbles,

"Mornin', Esk."

"Uh, morning, Geralt," he stutters out.

A soft but happy hum comes from Geralt behind him. Eskel expects him to move now, to let go as if Eskel has burned him. It's how these hugs normally go, short and quick transactions that leave Geralt avoiding him for the rest of the day. It hurts, but Geralt has a harder time showing affection than Eskel does. He resigns himself to the fact that Geralt will disappear, and Eskel won't see him until tomorrow.

But Geralt doesn't move. He stays in that position, holding Eskel's waist in a tight enough grip that Eskel can feel him, but loose enough that he's not squeezing the breath out of him. Eskel frowns, starting to get a little worried.

"Hey...you okay?" he asks, keeping his eyes on the porridge, not wanting to scare Geralt off. Unusual as this interaction is, Eskel finds himself enjoying Geralt's presence more than he would normally allow himself. He doesn't want to lose it.

Geralt hums an affirmative. "Fine," he mumbles again, voice muffled from his face being pressed against Eskel's back.

Eskel frowns deeper. If Geralt's okay, then why the sudden display of affection? Surely, something must've happened. A nightmare, at least. "Are you sure? It's just that you're..."

"'m I botherin' you?" Geralt doesn't pull away, but he starts to shift slightly as if he's preparing to.

"No!" Eskel reassures immediately, his free hand flying up to still Geralt's arms before they can release him. "No, you're good."

Geralt's head continues to move, his neck reaching up so he can plant a soft kiss on the hinge of Eskel's jaw, tucking his head back down afterward. "'kay."

Eskel freezes, the hand stirring the porridge pausing momentarily. "Okay," he whispers in return, left in a...not unpleasant daze.

They stay like that until Eskel finishes cooking. The kitchen smells of happiness, and it's impossible to tell who smells of it more. Not that it matters.

Geralt stays within Eskel's sight for the rest of the day.


	2. Man's Best Friend - Lambert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Eskel can't stomach human interaction, Lambert brings out the big guns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun to write, honestly. 
> 
> I take full responsibility for this Fluff Dump. But no one will blame me, because fluff is always appropriate. Right? Right? Especially considering what we may or may not have in stock for you in the future...
> 
> Enough said. 
> 
> Enjoy this little fluffy blurb. And as Wit already said, suggestions are welcome!

Lambert knows that today is not a good day for Eskel when he sees his brother trudging into the kitchen, hair still tousled from where it rested on his pillow all night, and still in his cotton braies and shirt he always wears to bed. Eskel isn't in the habit of not cleaning up before breakfast. In fact, on most occasions when Lambert came down for breakfast Eskel will have been awake for hours already, either getting a headstart on his chores or reading in the library. Not today, it seems. Today Eskel looks like shit. 

And Lambert tells him that in the nicest, most caring way possible. 

"You, brother, look like you've been dragged by a zeugl through the shitty sewers of both Novigrad and Oxenfurt."

Lambert's easy banter, meant to lighten Eskel's sour mood, only earns him a raised middle finger in response. Which is strange in and of itself, because Eskel is not one for rude gestures. Eskel can destroy a man's reputations using only his words and wit. Lambert knows because he's witnessed it once in his lifetime and to this day the innkeep in Ard Carraigh will let anyone who mentions the name Eskel sleep and eat for free in his establishment. 

"Okay, tough crowd," Lambert clicks his tongue once, wrecking his brain for a way to engage Eskel. The latter picks up an apple and a jug of water (at least Lambert hopes it's water and not ale… or vodka) before shuffling out of the kitchen again without sparing Lambert a glance or a word. 

Strange. Lambert really should investigate. 

__________

"Hey Geralt!" 

"Lambert."

Lambert finds Geralt in the stables mucking out Roach's stall. Lambert makes sure to pat his own gelding on the nose in greeting before addressing his brother again. 

"Seen Eskel this morning?" Lambert asks casually, as if he's not still internally freaking out at just how terrible their brother looked this morning. Geralt glances up at Lambert briefly, and if Lambert wasn't as well-versed in Geralt's body language he would have missed the concern flash in his yellowish eyes. 

"Briefly as he was heading down for breakfast."

"Alright. So maybe you can tell me what crawled up his ass and died there?" 

Geralt shrugs his shoulders and resumes his shovelling motion. 

"He didn't speak much."

"Exactly. Usually he at least spares a good morning. Not even that! He flipped me off this morning," Lambert adds for emphasis, because if Geralt is unwilling to see the severity of the situation then Lambert will make him see it. 

"You probably had it coming."

"Beside the point, as usual, pretty boy. Eskel doesn't do shit like that."

"He's only human. Every man has a breaking point."

Lambert throws his hands up in the air dramatically and rolls his eyes at Geralt in an exasperated manner. How does the bard do it, Lambert wonders! It's like Geralt is doing his best to be dense. 

"Fine! If you're no help, maybe papa Vesemir will know."

With those words, Lambert leaves the stables and heads straight for the library where he's sure to find the old man. 

__________

"No Lambert, I haven't seen Eskel this morning," Vesemir informs him without looking up from the book he's reading, "though I heard him toss and turn all night."

"Probably why he went back to bed this morning after I saw him," Lambert muses. Vesemir looks up then, one eyebrow raised in question. 

"Eskel went back to bed?" the old witcher asks, worry barely noticeable in his tone but Lambert just  _ knows _ . "That's not like him."

"Exactly what I thought."

"Did he say anything to you when you saw him?" 

Lambert describes their encounter to Vesemir and watches the man's frown deepen when Lambert mentions that Eskel didn't even bother to get dressed. So Lambert isn't crazy. It  _ is  _ odd seeing Eskel this way. 

"This is peculiar," Vesemir comments when Lambert is done, "very peculiar. Did you three drink last night?" 

"Nope." Lambert probably takes too much pride in that single statement. So what? He's not drank a drop in two days, where's his medal? "Nope, we all had an early night. Unless Eskel hides a stash of secret alcohol and fisstech from us. If he does, then Vesemir can you please tell him that it's rude not to share with his brothers?" 

Vesemir rolls his eyes at that statement, but the worried frown doesn't subside. Lambert is starting to feel agitated himself. If Eskel isn't willing to  _ talk  _ to any of them, if he's intent on avoiding all of them, then how is Lambert supposed to help?  Suddenly, an idea hits him.  He manages a quick "Be right back!" in Vesemir's general direction before he leaves the library. He takes the steps two by two and jumps down the last five before dashing to the stables once again. Geralt is long gone, but that doesn't matter. Lambert doesn't need pretty boy's help to carry out his plan. 

__________

"Come on, you stupid son of a bitch," Lambert curses as he tries to tie a leash around Lil Bleater's neck, "your dad needs some goat loving!"

Lil Bleater bleats indignantly, then hisses and coughs at him. Lambert didn't even know goats could do that! Creatures from hell they are, he thinks to himself as he grabs Lil Bleater by the horns when she tries to headbutt him in the family jewels.

"You little shit! How are you so tame around Eskel? What does he do to earn your love, she-devil?" 

Lil Bleater manages to dislodge her head from Lambert's grasp and once again aims straight for his nuts. Lambert is quick enough to dodge, the Goddess be blessed, and the goat catches him in the thigh instead. Behind him, Lambert hears Scorpion huff and nicker at his predicament. Lambert glares at the stallion over his shoulder. 

"I swear to the Gods, you're no horse! Admit it! You're a person trapped in the body of a horse."

Scorpion whinnies in response, then turns his back on Lambert to eat his oats in peace. Lambert will maintain that Scorpion is no regular horse until the day he dies. That horse is far too clever for his own good! Lambert puts those thoughts to one side for the time being. He's got an angry goat to tame. Maybe he should get Geralt to help? 

Lambert heaves a sigh. The things he'll do for his brother. 

__________

Lambert resorts to using Axii to get the she-devil inside the keep, past Vesemir's attention and up the stairs to Eskel's room. Whatever it is that's troubling Eskel, Lambert is convinced that a cuddle from his faithful Lil Bleater will chase all the dark thoughts away. At least Lambert hopes it will. He's not sure how easily he can sneak a horse into the keep. Yes, Scorpion is his plan B. Your point? 

When Lambert reaches Eskel's door, he lifts Axii and tightens his grip on the leash in case Lil Bleater attempts a flash escape. The goat takes several seconds to gather her wits and get her bearings, but to Lambert's surprise she doesn't bleat, or scream, or cough or hiss, when she sees him standing so close to her. Instead, she stares at Eskel's bedroom door and her little tail starts wagging furiously. Aha. So she's been here before, has she? Eskel, Eskel… what would papa Vesemir say? 

Lambert knocks on the door, a small smile gracing his lips when he sees the goat bounce around him in excitement. Alright, even Lambert has to admit that the thing is cute when she's not trying to headbut him in the nuts. 

"Eskel?" 

"Go away," comes the muffled response. 

"Alright I will, but first there's someone here who wants to see you."

Lil Bleater chooses this exact moment to let out a heartbroken bleat. Her human is right there, behind this very door, so why isn't she getting to see him yet? Lambert's grin grows when he opens the door and lets the goat run inside the room, heading straight for Eskel's bed. She leaps onto the mattress easily, like she's probably done countless times before. Eskel, who is currently buried under the covers, shifts when he feels Lil Bleater lick at his face. A large hand comes to pet her behind the ear, causing Lil Bleater's tail to wag even more energetically than before. 

"Hey girl," Lambert hears Eskel greet her, the gravel in his voice completely gone, "hey, watcha doin' up here?" 

"Let's just say uncle Lambert knew that her dad wasn't feeling up to human interaction today, so he thought he'd bring in the big guns."

Eskel peeks at Lambert over his shoulder and his expression softens. He still looks like shit - dark rings under his eyes, hair sticking out, and the funky smell in the room tells Lambert Eskel hasn't opened a window in, oh, probably decades. But despite all of this, there's a smile tugging at the edges of Eskel's lips when Lil Bleater insistently licks at his scars. 

"Thank you," he whispers sincerely, "for understanding."

"Hey brother, what is family for? If you need us we'll be about the keep somewhere."

Eskel nods before curling up under the covers again. Lil Bleater finally settles as well and plops down next to Eskel, nestled in the warm spot created by Eskel pulling his legs halfway up to his chest in a foetal position. Lambert's smirk softens into a smile at the sight. Eskel and Lil Bleater, friends for life. Lambert gently closes the door behind him and gives the two some well-deserved privacy. 

As Lambert heads downstairs again, whistling a happy tune on his way, he can't help but feel grateful that he doesn't have to resort to his plan B. 


	3. Sweet Things - Lambert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days, Eskel's too exhausted to bother with meals. Luckily, Lambert knows just the way to his brother's heart...and stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven spoiled you guys _fast._ I posted the first chapter and while I was asleep, she decided, "Yup. My time to shine." So thanks, Haven, for setting the bar on this fic, haha!
> 
> But in all seriousness, thank you guys for the cute prompts! You better believe they're all getting added to our WIPs. Once I finish up the few I have pre-made, it's onto your guys' prompts, and those will be longer, I promise! Until then, hope you enjoy this short drabble!

Eskel groans, muscles protesting as he shifts to lay on his back. After a long day of chores, Eskel takes this moment of free time to rest on his bed for a while, closing his eyes but not yet falling asleep. He can hear the others eating dinner, likely wondering why he hasn't joined them, but he truly doesn't believe he can keep his head up right now, no matter how much his stomach begs him to eat. He ignores it. Rest now, food later.

A knock on his door breaks the tentative silence. He opens his eyes just in time to see Lambert pop his head in after opening the door, a smirk growing on his face at the sight of his half-asleep brother. Lambert fully steps in, holding a covered tray in one hand while the other shuts the door behind him.

"Hey, big guy," he teases lightly, nearing Eskel's bed.

Eskel snorts, a tired but amused sound. "Hey, yourself," he replies, his words a bit slurred. Lambert's raised eyebrow tells him he caught that, too. "What's up?"

Lambert lifts the tray slightly in a gesture before setting it on Eskel's bedside table. "Brought this for you."

It's Eskel's turn to raise an eyebrow now. "Dinner in bed?"

"You wish." Lambert lifts the tray's cover to reveal an impressive pyramid of sweet buns. The smell hits Eskel like a sucker punch, his stomach growling almost immediately.

"Hungry much?" Lambert snickers.

"Mm. Starving."

Lambert scowls. "Should've come down to eat with us."

Eskel shrugs as best as he can while lying down. "Too tired."

"Well, good thing I, uh, made these. For you." Lambert averts his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

"Thank you," Eskel murmurs, a grin growing on his face.

"Yeah, don't mention it," Lambert grumbles. He shoves lightly at Eskel's shoulder. "Now, move over."

Eskel's sure the confusion shows on his face, but he complies, ignoring the way his muscles ache in response. "Why?"

"So I can sit down, dipshit." Lambert props himself up against Eskel's headboard, leaving his hip next to Eskel's head. He reaches over to the tray and grabs two sweet buns, one for Eskel and one for himself.

"Sit up," he scolds, "or you'll choke."

Eskel huffs a laugh, slowly pushing himself up to sit next to his brother. "Wouldn't want that."

Lambert tries to hide his soft smile behind the sweet bun he raises to his mouth, but Eskel catches it, anyway. "No. No, we wouldn't," he replies quietly.

Eskel allows a small smile of his own, taking the sweet bun Lambert holds out for him. They sit and eat the whole platter of desserts together, easy banter flowing between the two of them. When they're both too full to move, they slide down to lay in Eskel's bed, falling asleep close to each other, always touching. Neither minds at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, prompts are welcome!


	4. Headache - Geralt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Eskel has a headache, Geralt decides to keep him company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked about a migraine prompt. This is not that migraine prompt. HOWEVER, that prompt will be written eventually, and we intend to give it more love and attention than this one got. Even so, I still hope you guys enjoy this drabble! <3

Eskel has a headache. A killer one, too, if he's being honest. It's the kind of headache that's not quite a migraine, but near enough to one that his vision blurs when he opens his eyes and he feels light-headed every time he stands. Almost immediately after seeing him, Vesemir orders him to stay inside and sit out his chores for the day. Lambert, Geralt, and Jaskier take on his responsibilities without complaint, leaving him to wonder just how bad he actually looks. If he looks half as bad as he feels, then he doesn't blame them for reeking of worry at all.

Now, he lays on the couch in the library, eyes closed and basking in the warmth of the fire. There's a blanket resting on the back of the couch, one he desperately wants to wrap himself in, but there's a heaviness in his limbs. It dissuades him from moving the slightest inch, leaving him shivering despite the roaring fireplace. All he can think about is the blanket, and the despair of not being able to reach for it only serves to worsen his headache.

He hears someone approach the library. On instinct, his body tenses, bracing for loud teasing and complaints. He's not looking forward to the pain noise will bring.

The noise never comes.

Rather, someone gently lifts his head by cradling his neck and upper back. They sit down behind him and set his head onto their lap, careful as can be. Curious, Eskel cracks open his eyes, greeted with the sight of Geralt relaxing beside him, staring absentmindedly into the fire.

Mouth dry from not speaking, Eskel groans as he whispers, "Ger...?"

Geralt's eyes drift down, softening at whatever look is plastered on Eskel's face. "Hm?"

"Did Ves send you?"

At this, Geralt frowns, almost looking offended. "No. Finished my tasks for the day."

That still doesn't answer Eskel's unspoken question. Maybe Geralt didn't understand, so he voices it out loud. "...why are you here?"

Geralt doesn't grace his question with a response, at least not a verbal one. He runs his fingers through Eskel's hair gently, pressing down hard enough to massage his scalp intermittently. 

Eskel's eyes instantly flicker closed again. "... _oh."_

Geralt snorts in amusement. "Yeah. _Oh."_

"Thank you..." Eskel mumbles, words slurring in face of the sudden drowsiness plaguing him.

"Anytime. Need anything else?"

The blanket. He wants the blanket so badly. "...the blanket?" he asks, almost shy of Geralt's answer. He doesn't want to be teased, interrogated as to why he never grabbed it himself when it is only literally mere _inches_ above his right hand.

Geralt says nothing. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch, unfolding it and tossing it over Eskel's body. He fixes the edges caught underneath, arranging it so it covered as much of Eskel as he can reach without moving the head in his lap too much. 

Eskel hums in contentment. "Thank you," he slurs again.

"Of course. Rest, brother."

And Eskel does.


	5. Papa Vesemir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel is drunk, so Vesemir steps in to help his pup. Cuddling ensues.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a certain witcher in possession of his brother's bottle of moonshine will inevitably end up asleep outside the walls of Kaer Morhen. 

Or, to put it plainly, Eskel is a lightweight. 

Vesemir really shouldn't have been that surprised to find Eskel passed out in the courtyard, all 57 different kinds of sloshed and snoring louder than a raging wyvern. Vesemir heaves a deep-rooted sigh at the sight. Every time his pups get together, it always ends with _one of them_ blind-drunk and unconscious. Usually Vesemir's money was on Lambert - the gods be his witnesses, his youngest pup has an unaddressed drinking problem. Well, not quite unaddressed. In fact, Vesemir has brought up the subject many times before, only to be flipped off by Lambert and told to mind his own fucking business. Eskel lets out a particularly loud snore which even spooks his faithful Lil Bleater into running away from him. Vesemir doesn't blame her. She must be having flashbacks to that all the times when Eskel used her as wyvern bait. 

"What will we do with you, pup?" Vesemir asks out loud, something he's been doing more and more recently. It gets lonely up that mountain without no one else to talk to. And Vesemir's always been a great conversationalist, so why deny himself the pleasure of his own company? 

"I can't believe your brothers left you to sleep out here in the cold." Vesemir crouches next to Eskel and notices the blue tinge of his lips. How long has his oldest been out here for? And how drunk were Lambert and Geralt not to have noticed that their brother went missing? Eskel stirs in his sleep and a small groan falls from his lips. 

"Wha? Wher'm'I?" 

"Easy, pup," Vesemir places a placating hand on Eskel's shoulder, "you're safe. Drunk as a skunk, but you're safe." 

Eskel mumbles something unintelligible under his breath before attempting to sit up. 

"'s always the same with those two," Eskel slurs, suppressing a burp, "wh-when we get together, 's always ends like th's." 

"I know, pup."

"Da-damn Lamb'rt an' his shitty moonshine."

"Nobody forced you to drink it," Vesemir philosophises, earning himself an annoyed grunt in response, "come on then. Let us get you upstairs."

"Urgh. Gonna puke," Eskel warns, but before Vesemir can move out of the way, his pup is doubled over and retching at his feet. Vesemir closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath through his nose. Which is probably a mistake, Vesemir realises, when the smell of vomit invades his nostrils. Vesemir curses Lambert and his poor distilling skills before patting Eskel's back in a patronising way. 

"There, there."

And there goes a pair of perfectly good boots. Admittedly this isn't the first time Vesemir is covered in one of his pup's sick and it certainly won't be the last. He's probably also been covered in worse. Still, he just bought these boots not long ago. 

"S'rry, Ves'mir," Eskel rasps once his stomach settles. A string of dry coughs wrecks his body and when he looks up at Vesemir, there are tears in his eyes which likely appeared while Eskel was throwing up the content of his stomach over Vesemir's boots. 

"Just get up!" Vesemir grabs Eskel under the armpit and pulls him onto his feet. "Can you walk?" 

Vesemir knows the answer to that question the minute he sees Eskel stagger unsteadily once he's made to stand on his own two feet. A hiccup takes him by surprise, pulling a giggle from Eskel. A  _ giggle _ . Vesemir bites back the urge to smack his pup up the back of the head. 

"Ves'mir?" 

"What?" 

"C-can you…," Eskel swallows dryly and smacks his tongue against his dry palate, "Can you ge-t me a dr-ink?" 

"Of water, sure."

Vesemir anticipates Eskel stumbling over his own feet and manages to catch his son before Eskel's knees hit the ground. Vesemir is by no means a weak man, despite what his advanced age might suggest, but even he has to admit that Eskel is  _ heavy _ . He somehow manages to pull Eskel up and shoulder his weight, but it's a complicated affair, especially since Eskel is falling asleep on Vesemir's shoulder. 

"Stay with me, pup. Work with me."

Vesemir manages to haul Eskel back into the keep, though when they reach the staircase Vesemir has to stop to let Eskel catch his breath. Vesemir is confident that his pup has thrown up all his stomach has to offer, but with how much alcohol he drank tonight, the world is probably spinning for him so Vesemir indulges Eskel's slow pace. The climb up the stairs is more of a struggle, but Vesemir manages  _ somehow _ and to his relief, Eskel's room is now in sight. At this point, Vesemir is not so much crutching Eskel as he is dragging his pup to his room, but Vesemir is feeling generous. 

Next time, he'll leave Eskel to sleep off his hangover in the stables. 

"Alright pup, there we are." Vesemir all but drops Eskel onto the mattress, wincing when he hears the bed frame creak under Eskel's weight. Thankfully it doesn't break. "Go to sleep."

"Mmh Vesemir?" Eskel looks up, a dopey grin tugging at his lips. "Wanna cuddle?" 

"Go to sleep, pup," Vesemir insists, but the look of devastation on Eskel's face gives him pause. "What's the matter?" 

"You… you don't want to cuddle with me, papa Vesemir?" 

_ Fuck _ . Vesemir has never been able to resist his pups when they refer to him as papa Vesemir. Or when Eskel makes  _ that face _ at him. 

"Oh, pup.  _ Fine. _ " 

Vesemir submits to his pup's demands with a deep sigh. He takes off his dirty boots and places them outside Eskel's door. No point in stinking up the room. The old wolf then heads to the bed and sits on top of the covers, back resting against the headboard. Eskel doesn't waste any time. He cuddles up to Vesemir, throws one arm over the older witcher's hips, and nuzzles into Vesemir's side. Vesemir wraps his arms around his pup as well as he can, then rakes his fingers through Eskel's hair. The latter melts into the embrace and is asleep within minutes. 

Vesemir shakes his head fondly when the sound of Eskel's soft snoring reaches his ears. Vesemir can almost hear the instructors of old reprimand him for growing soft, for caring too much. Vesemir mentally flips them off. His pups never got to be kids, not really, and Vesemir never truly got to be the dad they needed him to be when they were growing up. 

So if a drunk Eskel asks him for cuddles, who is Vesemir to refuse him that simple comfort? 

"Sleep tight, pup. But if you think that I'll take it easy on you come morning, you're sorely mistaken."

Vesemir places a soft kiss on the top of Eskel's hair before closing his eyes and drifting off into peaceful slumber. 


	6. Winter Shenanigans - Cirilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri helps her uncle Eskel unwind in her very own way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is super duper cute, I love these two so much. My heart is so full of love. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been commenting, liking, bookmarking and reading our silly blurps. It means the world to Wit and me. We are working on the requests we already go in the comments, but new ideas are always welcome. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the next installment of the Eskel Loving Contest.

Ciri may be young, but she's not stupid. She knows when her uncle Eskel is taking on too much. He will never admit how his hands are blistered from shovelling out snow so Ciri and the other witchers are able to carry out their training; how the muscles in his back and shoulders are stiff from patching up various holes in the walls of the keep; how his scars itch and pull uncomfortably because of the cold. He will never admit that he sometimes forfeits breakfast to get ahead of his chores so he can help out his brothers and Ciri with their own. And even though Ciri is tasked with the simpler chores, she hates doing the dishes and sweeping. Often she'll go to the kitchen to find uncle Eskel cleaning the dishes for her and shooting her a small wink.  _ Go play, Ciri. Be a kid. I got this.  _ Uncle Eskel is so good to all of them and Ciri wants to show her uncle just how much she appreciates all he does for his family. 

Ciri is very limited in what she can do to show her gratitude. Even though she's growing stronger by the day thanks to the witchers' training, she's still only a child. She can't wrestle Lil Bleater up to uncle Eskel's room when he's sad. She's not allowed anywhere near the cooking utensils without supervision, because she could cut herself on the sharp knives (she's not even allowed to wield a real sword yet… what fun is it being a witcher apprentice if you can't even have your own sword?). So she can't cook uncle Eskel hearty meals or bake him sweet treats, like uncle Lambert likes to do. She's not nearly strong enough to carry him upstairs after a night of drinking with his brothers, like uncle Vesemir has done before, so she can't take care of him that way either. 

Ciri doesn't know how she can be good to her uncle Eskel, so one morning she asks Geralt for his advice. 

"It's not your job to take care of him, Ciri," Geralt tells her, crouching so he's at eye level with her, "don't worry about Eskel. He's fine."

But uncle Eskel is not fine. Ciri is not stupid. She can see that uncle Eskel is working too hard, training too hard, but not sleeping much. She knows because of the dark rings under his eyes. Since Geralt didn't have any advice to offer, Ciri goes to uncle Lambert for help. 

"Hey, don't worry your pretty head over it," uncle Lambert ruffles her hair fondly as he speaks those words, "go play, be a kid."

Ciri is starting to get annoyed at being dismissed by everyone and being treated like a child. Uncle Vesemir is her last hope. 

"You want to cheer up Eskel?" Vesemir raises an eyebrow at that, a small smile tugging at his lips and making his moustache twitch. "What makes you think he's in need of cheering up?" 

Ciri shrugs her shoulders and feigns ignorance. She's learned that sometimes it's easier to pretend she doesn't understand as much as she does. It saves her the trouble of having to answer too many questions. 

"Everyone needs cheering up sometimes."

"I suppose they do," Vesemir agrees, though there's a look in his eyes that tells Ciri he doesn't quite buy her innocent act. Ciri isn't stupid, but neither is uncle Vesemir. "You know, when Eskel was your age he used to love playing in the snow. That will cheer him up."

Ciri beams at Vesemir's suggestion. 

"Thank you, uncle Vesemir."

And soon after, Ciri goes in search of Eskel. 

__________

Ciri finds uncle Eskel patching up a leak in the stables right above Roach's stall. Ciri knows that her uncle will have heard her coming, so he doesn't even flinch when she tugs at his trousers. 

"What is it, pup?" he asks her, though not unkindly. Uncle Eskel sometimes loses himself in his work and his dismissive tone is not to get Ciri to go away, but because he's concentrating hard on the task at hand. 

"Uncle Eskel, do you want to build a snowman with me?" 

That request causes Eskel to pause. He glances down at Ciri, almost as if to check that she's not pulling his leg… metaphorically. When Ciri meets his gaze expectantly, she notices the raised eyebrow and the small smile. 

"Right now?" he asks and Ciri nods. "Kid, I've got work to do. Maybe some other time." Ciri isn't one to be dissuaded so easily, so when Eskel returns his attention to the leak in the roof of the stables, she tugs at his trouser leg again. Uncle Eskel heaves a sigh. "Ciri…" 

"You've been working hard all week. You can stop for a little while to build a snowman with me."

Ciri crosses her arms over her chest and puts on her best haughty expression. She is a princess, after all, even if right now she doesn't look like one, with her tousled hair and being a bit sweaty from running around the keep all day. But she still has her attitude and no one can take that away from her.  Eskel's shoulder slump in resignation. 

"Fine. Just a short while though, alright kid?" 

Ciri flashes him a toothy smile before grabbing a hold of his hand and dragging him out of the stables. Eskel lets her, but if he really wanted to stop Ciri he could, so she sees it as a win. She guides him to the middle of the courtyard and twirls around so she can look up at her uncle. 

"Here is perfect!" 

"You mean right in the middle of the training grounds?" Eskel's tone is laced with amusement, even though he's levelling her with a dubious look. 

"Yes. We can use him as a dummy later on."

"Good thinking, kid."

Ciri preens at the praise. Together, her and Eskel start off by making the bottom half of the snowman, making sure to create a sturdy base to support the weight of the snowman's top layers. By the time they're done, the base reaches Ciri's chest and is twice as wide as she is. With the base of the snowman done, Ciri gathers some snow in her gloved hands and creates a medium sized snowball, which she then rolls around in the snow, watching it grow, and grow, and grow… until it reaches the desired size. Eskel helps her lift the second part of the snowman's body onto the base, where he makes sure that it balances correctly before letting go. They top off their creation with a medium size snowball to represent the head. 

"Now to find stones to make up the face," Ciri announces before dashing off and picking up whatever stones she thinks would suit their snowman best. Soon, she carries a handful of pebbles back to uncle Eskel. "Do you think that'll be enough?" 

"That'll be plenty, kid," Eskel assures her, "Come here then, I'll lift you so you can reach."

Uncle Eskel gathers Ciri in his arms and props her onto his hip, from where she can press the pebbles into the snowman's powdery face. Ciri is probably getting too big to be carried around like that for too long, but uncle Eskel is strong and he's able to hold her there easily. Soon, the snowman is looking back at them with two pebbly eyes and a wide stoney smirk. 

"He looks very happy," Eskel remarks, "too happy. You might want to turn that into a frown if you're to use him as a training dummy."

"Good thinking, uncle Eskel," Ciri tells him with a smirk of her own as she adopts his turn of phrase. A warm chuckle rumbles deep in Eskel's chest. Ciri quickly readjusts the pebbles to create a frown. "There we go!" 

"Excellent work, pup," Eskel compliments her again, earning himself a sloppy kiss to his scarred cheek. 

"You too, uncle Eskel."

"What's this?" a familiar voice which Ciri recognises as belonging to uncle Lambert interrupts their bonding, "You built a snowman without me?" 

"Ah, don't be jealous Lambert," Eskel's tone turns playful, "she asked her favourite uncle to help and didn't want to hurt your feelings."

" _ Favourite uncle? _ " Lambert's voice grows comically high-pitched as his consternation grows. "I think you'll find that she felt sorry for you and refrained from asking  _ the favourite uncle _ for help." Lambert points at himself when he says those words, pulling a snort from Ciri. 

"I think you'll find that you're both playing for second place," Geralt declares he steps into the courtyard, a rare easy smile playing on his lips as his eyes come to rest on his brothers and daughter of surprise. 

"You can't be her favourite uncle, Geralt, you're her dad!" Lambert argues. 

"Your point being? I am Ciri's favourite in _every_ capacity," Geralt deadpans. 

Ciri and Eskel share a look between them as they listen to Geralt and uncle Lambert's bickering. Eskel rolls his eyes pointedly and Ciri giggles. 

"Say we go inside and get some hot tea going?" he whispers to her, like he's sharing a deeply guarded secret with his niece. 

"I think that's a great idea," Ciri replies in an equally hushed tone. Eskel lowers her to the ground and lets her hold his hand as they walk into the keep, both wearing happy smiles on their faces. 


	7. Carving a Place in Your Heart - Geralt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How dare Geralt give Eskel a gift when he had nothing to offer in return? The audacity of this man...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Haven has been spoiling you guys like crazy. However, this is _also_ the second to last pre-made chapter I have for you guys. After this and the next chapter, it's gonna, hopefully, be longer chapters from then on. But no promises. Haven and I do have a surprise coming for you guys tomorrow morning in the **Whump Dump** so be on the lookout for that!
> 
> Without further ado, here's another short drabble!

A sigh of relief slips from Eskel's mouth, a weight lifting from his chest as he closes the trunk lid on his emptied bags. He lets himself fall back from crouching on his heels, taking a moment to sit on the floor as he gazes around his room. The first day back at Kaer Morhen after a long year on the Path always feels so surreal. Sometimes, it's just a relief, a happiness he allows himself to indulge in after spending so much time away. Most times, though, he wonders how he ever made it, how he managed to keep himself alive long enough to see his family once again.

It's one of those years.

"Floor suddenly more comfortable than the chair?"

Eskel's gaze snaps over to his doorway. Muscles he hadn't realized are tense relax at the sight of Geralt smirking at him. A small parcel rests in Geralt's hands, but Eskel doesn't focus on that.

"More like closer," Eskel retorts, his own grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

Geralt huffs a laugh, stepping further into the room. "Good to have you back."

"Good to be back."

He gets a hum in response, but Eskel doesn't mind, choosing instead to follow Geralt as his brother makes his way to Eskel's bed. Geralt perches on the edge, holding out the small parcel.

"Got you something."

Eskel's heart leaps to his throat, guilt turning his stomach. He reaches out hesitantly, taking the parcel from Geralt's hands. "Oh. I didn't..."

Geralt waves a hand, dismissing Eskel's concerns flippantly. "Didn't get it for you to get something in return."

Eskel nods, but they both already know he's planning Geralt's gift for next winter. Geralt tilts his head and watches as Eskel unwraps the parcel, revealing a round cut of a wooden log about the size of Eskel's palm. On it is a carved sketch of four wolves cuddling together.

Eskel clears his throat free of the sudden lump blocking his airway. He stares at the beautiful carving and croaks out, "Well, shit...way to make a man cry on his first day back home."

"You're such a sap." He can practically hear Geralt's smirk, and, sure enough, when he looks over, Geralt has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Says you," Eskel huffs, returning Geralt's grin with a smile of his own. "You're the one who bought the damn thing!"

"I made it."

Eskel pauses, blinking in surprise. "...you what?"

"I made it," Geralt repeats simply, shrugging his shoulders as if he hadn't said something touching. "For you."

"...you made me cry, so now you have to hug me."

Geralt chuckles, standing up and holding open his arms. "Like that's a hardship."

Eskel surges up from his spot on the ground, throwing himself into Geralt's hug. It's the first hug they've shared since they departed last winter, and it never gets any better than this. With Geralt, he's _safe_ and _warm_ in all the ways he can never be on the Path. Eskel clutches the carved log as tightly as his other hand clenches Geralt's shirt. Geralt reciprocates just as fiercely.

They stand in that embrace for a while. They don't mind it at all.


	8. A Love That Keeps You Warm - Lambert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if it wasn't bad enough that Geralt had given him a gift, Lambert had to give one, too. Seriously, he's going to spoil the hell out of the two of them next winter.
> 
> Companion Piece to _Chapter 7: Carving a Place in Your Heart - Geralt_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _had_ a longer chapter to give to you guys, and then I realized I never posted this shorter one. Oh, well. I'll either post the longer one later tonight or tomorrow afternoon. Either way, a slightly longer chapter is coming and I hope you all will enjoy that one as well!

Eskel hums to himself, shelving a collection of books he's bought over the year in his room. His humming leaves much to be desired - he's certainly no Jaskier - but everyone should be downstairs right now, so he isn't too concerned about being self-conscious. It isn't until he hears footsteps approaching from his right that he cuts himself off. Eskel glances over from his bookshelf and sees Lambert there in the doorway, a large package in his arms.

Lambert grins. "Oh. There you are. Been looking for you."

Eskel smirks back, turning more fully to face his younger brother. He splays open his arms in a playful gesture. "Found me. What do you need?"

Lambert snorts, rolling his eyes. He holds out the package. "Got this for you."

"You and Geralt with the fucking gifts," Eskel huffs, scowling. "I didn't get you guys anything."

"Didn't have to." Lambert shrugs, looking entirely dismissive of Eskel's concerns. "'s not what we bought 'em for."

Eskel laughs and takes the gift from Lambert's hands. It's not terribly heavy, but it does have a significant weight to it, much more than Geralt's gift did. "Yeah, that's what he says, too."

Eskel sets the package down on his bed before unwrapping the brown parchment-like covering. Inside sits a large, thick, silken cloak that must've cost...Gods, Eskel doesn't even know. It has a black outside and a velvety red inside, white fox fur lining the edges. It looks so damn soft and warm...

Eskel breathes out in surprise, dread pooling in his chest as he takes in the clearly expensive material. "Lambert..."

"Like it?" his brother asks. Eskel can see the self-satisfied smile from the corner of his eyes.

Eskel chuckles in disbelief. "That's an understatement. How much did this cost?"

Lambert groans, rolling his eyes again. "Don't worry about that." He points to the red velvet on the inside. "It's reversible, too, so you can wear the red on the outside instead if you chose. Red seems to be your color."

Eskel licks his lips, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he whispers. "Thank you."

"Thank me by admitting my gift was better than Geralt's."

Eskel snickers, turning to face his brother. "How about a hug instead?"

Lambert sighs in faux resignation, holding open his arms. "I suppose that'll do."

Eskel carefully sets the cloak back down onto the bed, stepping into Lambert's hug. Eskel's taller than him, but it doesn't make the hug feel any less comforting. Lambert wraps his arms around Eskel's back, hooking his chin over Eskel's shoulder. Eskel tucks his face into Lambert's neck, breathing in the comforting smell of his youngest brother.

If they stay in that hug just as long as Geralt and Eskel did, no one has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys enjoyed this one, please consider checking out the rest of the Fluff Dump, and try out our Eskel Whump Dump if you haven't already! Thank you so much for reading! <3


	9. A Thousand Times - Geralt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel forgets that his brothers love him. Geralt will remind him as many times as he needs to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a longer chapter from me! Thank Haven for a bit of help on this one, haha! Writing fluff is soooo hard. I have to add a little angst to get me in the mood.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Geralt hums, silently entertaining Lambert’s one-sided conversation as the younger wolf yaps on and on about something or another. It might be about the new bombs he’s creating, or maybe a shit contract on the Path. Geralt doesn’t know, and he really doesn’t care. He’s only waiting on Eskel to get down here so they can go fix the keep’s roof together. The longer he takes, the more Eskel owes him for putting up with Lambert’s bullshit.

In the hallway, Geralt can distinctly make out the sound of footsteps making their way towards the dining hall. He knows those footsteps. After over a century, how could he _not_ know those footsteps?

He shoots up from his chair, ignoring Lambert’s indignant yell, and heads out of the dining hall to find Eskel. Sure enough, his brother stands in the middle of the hallway, blinking in surprise as Geralt all but hurries into his line of sight. It takes mere seconds for Geralt to note the sunken bags under Eskel’s dull, amber eyes. His shoulders slump over like the weight of the world rests on them, and given the person Eskel is, it probably does. Geralt doesn’t point it out, not yet. He will, but he doesn’t want to irritate Eskel so early in the morning.

Geralt slips an apple from where he’d stuffed one into his pocket and holds it out to Eskel. The other witcher stares at it for a second before taking it. Geralt hates the way his hands tremble. 

“Eat that while I go grab the stuff for the roof. Then we’ll head up,” Geralt says, eyeing Eskel as if he dares Eskel to start an argument. 

To his surprise, Eskel doesn’t say anything. Though, judging by the state of him, it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise at all. Eskel simply holds the apple, looking down at it with an empty gaze as he rolls it from hand to hand. Geralt almost bursts right there and then. He doesn’t.

“I’ll be back, brother,” he continues in a softer tone. He pats Eskel’s shoulder then heads outside. 

He tries to make it quick. He should’ve just done this instead of listening to Lambert yammer on, but he didn’t think Eskel would come down looking so...bad. They usually did this together, but Eskel looks like he can use the few minutes for a break. While Geralt wants him to take a moment to collect himself, he doesn’t like the idea of leaving Eskel alone for too long. That empty look in Eskel’s eyes just really rubs Geralt the wrong way.

Once the materials are lined up against the outside wall, Geralt pokes his head back into the keep. His heart drops when he finds Eskel in the same place he left him, staring at the untouched apple. An odd fear creeps into Geralt’s chest. He pushes it down and clears his throat. 

“Esk.” Eskel’s head snaps up, looking at Geralt almost unseeingly. A chill runs down his spine, and it has nothing to do with the cold winter air. “Ready when you are.”

Eskel nods. He moves his hand, and the apple disappears into some pocket of his cloak. Geralt hides his dismay. Eskel needs that apple, having not eaten breakfast, but knowing Eskel for as long as he has, he knows he’s not going to convince his older brother. That’s fine. He has time.

The two of them head towards the side of the keep where the supplies Geralt brought over wait to be carried up. Geralt grabs his own fair share, maybe a bit more. Eskel doesn’t argue, but he does stare a bit at Geralt’s load, almost a bit pleadingly. Geralt feels his eyebrows instinctively knit together in confusion, and he shakes his head. There’s no way he’s making Eskel carry the heavier pack up when he hasn’t eaten, doesn’t look like he’s slept, and won’t even talk. Eskel visibly bites the inside of his cheek, then picks up the smaller packs. 

The two of them climb up to the roof, dropping their equipment against the low wall. The hole sits not far from them. Eskel moves closer to the hole, inspecting the damage while Geralt unpacks the bags. For a while, all they can hear is the wind howling and whipping around them, pulling at their cloaks and tousling their hair. Then, a low sigh comes from behind Geralt. He turns around to see Eskel sitting back near the hole, arms resting over bent knees. Geralt frowns and finally goes for it.

He stands, making his way next to Eskel. The other witcher barely spares him a glance. “Hey. What’s going on?”

Eskel takes a while to answer. “It’s...It’s stupid.”

“How about you tell me, and I’ll be the judge of that.”

Eskel huffs, giving a quiet laugh as he ducks his head. When he raises it again, tears linger in his eyes. Geralt clamps down on the sudden alarm building in his chest. “I’m so fucking dumb for this,” he whispers, his tone painfully sardonic. 

Geralt places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “C’mon, brother. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“I just…” Eskel looks up at the white sky for a few seconds before casting a side glance at Geralt. “Don’t laugh.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Geralt…”

“I mean it.” Geralt bumps his shoulder, eyeing Eskel seriously. “What’s going on?”

Eskel bites his lip. When he talks again, his voice is low enough that Geralt has to strain to hear it. “Do you...do you love me?”

Geralt thinks his heart stops beating. What the fu-?

“In any capacity?”

_What the fuck._

As if the question before hadn’t caught Geralt off-guard, the addition only made things worse. Eskel had sincerely asked if Geralt not only loved him, but if he loved him even if it was only just the tiniest bit. Eskel says it like he isn’t worth Geralt’s whole heart, body, mind, and soul. He says it like Geralt wouldn’t lay his life down without hesitation to save Eskel’s. 

“Eskel…”

Eskel flinches, recoiling away as if he’s been struck. “You’re hesitating...”

“You’re thinking too much.” 

Eskel’s words cut short, and he turns a wide-eyed stare to Geralt. Geralt gazes earnestly back, letting that emotionless mask slide off to show concern and worry. He doesn’t like exposing himself like this, but Eskel’s clearly exposing a part of himself he’s buried deep for a while now. It’s only fair.

For a moment, Eskel doesn’t move, but then he whispers, “I love you, brother. I could never make you understand.”

“C’mon, Kelly…” Geralt throws an arm over Eskel’s shoulders, pulling him close and blocking out the winter winds. “I know that you love me.”

“No,” Eskel murmurs, shaking his head and clutching at Geralt tightly. “You don’t understand. I love you so much. I’d lay my life down for you in a heartbeat.”

Geralt tightens his hold on Eskel in return. “As I would for you, brother.”

“You...would?”

“Of course I fucking would. You’re, hands down, the best man I’ve ever met.”

Eskel’s quiet for a moment. He buries his face into Geralt’s neck and asks shyly, “Do you love Yen more than me?”

Geralt shakes his head immediately. “She doesn’t even come close. I’d choose you over her any day, Eskel.”

“But she...you guys…”

“What, dated? Yeah, and who did I go to every time she hurt me or used me? You’ve _never_ hurt me, brother, and definitely not in the way she has. You...you’re safe.”

“Safe?”

Geralt hums, gently raking his fingers through Eskel’s hair. “Mm-hmm. You’re my safe space. And I will gladly be yours.”

“Why?” Eskel pushes, and, bless him, he sounds genuinely confused. Geralt only clutches him tighter. “Why would you offer that?”

“Because you fucking deserve it, Kels. You deserve all that I can give you and more.”

“You...think so?”

“A _century,_ Eskel,” Geralt replies, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. “More than that, actually. I have known you for over a hundred years. In that time, you have taken care of me more than I could ever ask for. You were there for me after Blaviken. You held me through the Trials. You’ve been the best brother I could ever ask for.”

Eskel purses his lips. “What are you saying?”

“How could I _not_ think so, Eskel?” Geralt asks with a wry grin. “Why would I ever think otherwise?”

“I just thought-”

“Again, you’re thinking too much.”

“Have you thought about this enough?”

“I’ve thought about it for almost hundred-twenty years, Eskel. I think I’ve thought about it quite enough.” 

Eskel places a small kiss on the base of Geralt’s neck. “Thank you.”

“I’ll say it a thousand times if you need me to, big guy.”

“...will you say it one more time?”

Geralt can practically hear the cheeky grin more than he can feel it against his skin, but he indulges Eskel, anyway. With his own happy smile on his face, Geralt pulls Eskel closer to his chest, places a soft kiss in Eskel’s hair, and whispers,

“I love you, brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, don't be afraid to leave me prompts in the comments! Trust me, it's much easier for me to make whump prompts than fluffy ones, so if you guys have ideas, you'd actually be doing me a huge favor, haha!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed! See you all in the next chapter!


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